


Wanted: Dog Sitter for the Full Moon

by stillwaterseas (phoenixflight)



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, Bestiality, Crack, Craigslist, First Time, Fluff and Smut, Full Shift Werewolves, Knotting, M/M, Werewolf Sex, Werewolves
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176184
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/phoenixflight/pseuds/stillwaterseas
Summary: Laurent was browsing Craigslist under the section Jobs: Magical/Supernatural when he stumbled on the posting. He only clicked it because it made him laugh:Wanted - Dog sitter for the full moon.





	Wanted: Dog Sitter for the Full Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [badaltin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/badaltin/gifts).



> This fic is... exactly what you'd expect, I hope.  
> Dedicate to Elliott, whose idea this originally was, and which he kindly allowed me to steal, and also to everyone on the discord who said YES PLEASE when I talked about this - love you all, dunno what I'd do without you (not write filthy were-porn, that's what). And especially to Kel who let me scream in her DMs, and helped me when I got stuck. <3

Laurent was browsing Craigslist under the section Jobs: Magical/Supernatural when he stumbled on the posting. He only clicked it because it made him laugh. 

_ Wanted: Dog sitter for the full moon _

_I am usually designated-human for my best friend who is lycanthropic,_ the post read. _But this month I will be unavoidably out of town over the full moon. Need a sitter. He has a psych-collar and is very tame when it’s on. Looking for someone to hang out for the night, keep an eye on him, and keep the collar charged. Must be a mage, warlock, witch, or sorcerer. Pays $250 for the night._ _Call or text -_ and a phone number.

Laurent tapped his fingers against the side of his laptop and checked the date of the next full moon. He didn’t have anything going on, and it sounded like an easy way to make a couple of hundred bucks. Of course, it could also be an easy way to get ripped apart by a vicious were, but psych collars were reliable as long as there was a magic-user around to keep them working, and Laurent was more than capable of taking care of himself if it came to a fight against some dog. He texted the number. 

_ I saw your craigslist ad. You still looking for a dog sitter?  _

He got a text back half an hour later. 

_ yeah you a magi?  _

_ Witch _ , Laurent replied. 

_ cool. i’m nik, my friend’s name is damen, he’s very sweet. all he wants to do on the full moon is play fetch and go for walks as long as you keep the collar on. ever used one before?  _

_ Not on a were but I’m familiar with that class of spell.  _

_ ok, sounds good. what’s your name btw?  _

_ Laurent.  _

_ great thanks laurent! i’ll send you the address, can you be by an hour before moonrise on the 23rd? damen can write you a check before he turns.  _

_ Yeah, sounds fine. I’ll be there.  _

 

The full moon was on a Saturday, and Laurent had a lazy day. He cleaned the kitchen and put in a load of laundry. While he was waiting for the washing machine to finish he ended up in bed, jerking off slowly, and then forgot about the laundry and spent two and a half working himself open with his fingers and then with toys, bringing himself close a dozen times before getting off. 

When he roused himself out of the post-orgasm daze and looked at the time, he swore and stumbled out of bed. Pulling his pants on hastily, he shoved the laundry in the dryer, grabbed an extra sweater to put on under his jacket in case his canine charge wanted to spend the whole night running around outside, and dashed for the door.  

The address Nik had given him was a small house in the suburbs with a large yard, surrounded by chain-link dog fencing. Laurent found himself amused again. 

The man who opened the door was built like a wall - half a foot taller than Laurent and twice as broad. When he saw Laurent he grinned widely, and there were dimples in his brown cheeks. Laurent felt an unexpected swoop in his belly. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t that smile. 

“Hey! You must be Laurent.” His voice was warm, energetic. He stood back to usher Laurent inside, and despite his sweet face, or perhaps because of it, Laurent let a tendril of magic trail out of his fingertips to sweep the space for malevolent intention. There was nothing except the usual traces of irritation caused by daily life. 

“Damen, I assume.” 

“Yeah.” There was that dimple again. “Thanks so much for doing this. Let me give you a quick tour.” 

“Sure,” Laurent said, distracted by looking around the house. It was tidy enough, comfortably lived in. Books on the coffee table, an unstable-looking pile of coats on the rack by the door, but no dishes as Damen led him through the kitchen. No dog hair on the furniture either, Laurent noted, and wondered if he vacuumed after every full moon, or if he just didn’t jump on the couch. “So how does this normally go?” he asked after Damen had pointed out the bathroom down the hall and told him to help himself to anything in the fridge. 

“Well, Nik usually comes over for dinner first, and I put on my collar and then we watch Netflix until the moon rises. I never remember much, but he says it’s usually really easy. If I get antsy he just lets me out in the backyard.” Damen gestured to the french doors, opening onto a patio, and the yard beyond. Long shadows covered the grass, although the sky was still bright, tinged with pink. The sun was still up, the moon just below the eastern horizon. “I can get a little…” Damen rubbed the back of his neck, “affectionate. The wolf likes to feel like it has a pack,” he added apologetically. “If you don’t want me shedding on you just shove me off.” 

Laurent nodded. “Got your collar?” 

“Right here.” He pulled a thick leather strap out of his pocket. There was a heavy brass buckle set with a blue stone, cool and dark against the metal. Damen fastened it deftly around his own neck, and Laurent swallowed, feeling a flutter of something in his belly. 

He pushed it away and lifted a hand. “May I?” 

“Please.” Damen lifted his chin a little in invitation and Laurent reached out, placing two fingers against the cool stone. He could feel the heat of Damen’s skin even without touching him, the current of his pulse pounding beneath the collar. Laurent closed his eyes. 

The stone sang in his mind, waiting. Laurent hardly had to create any intention at all to cast the spell, the stone was so familiar with the magic. All it took was a spark of power, leaping from his fingers with a shock. They both jolted, and Damen let out a tiny huff of breath, not quite a gasp. When Laurent opened his eyes, Damen was watching him intently, lips slightly parted, and the stone was glowing with a gentle, steady light. Reflexively, Laurent licked his own lips and watched Damen’s eyes dip down to his mouth. 

Stepping away abruptly, Laurent swallowed. The spell took no conscious effort to maintain - it would remain until he released it, even if he fell asleep, as long as he was close enough to the stone. He could feel the tiny tug of energy under his breast bone, barely there but impossible to forget. 

Damen glanced at the clock on the wall and then out at the sky. “We’ve got forty minutes probably. Let me write you a check and we can put something on. Is there anything you want to watch?” 

They settled on a baking show, which wouldn’t have interested Laurent under normal circumstances, but he wasn’t paying attention to it anyway, he was watching Damen out of the corner of his eye. Damen showed his emotions on his face - smiling and wincing along with the contestants on screen. He was sprawled out on the couch, his body posture already somewhat canine. Laurent wondered if he’d been born to a pack or turned. Born, he guessed. All the research suggested that turned weres struggled to overcome the associated trauma, and Damen was relaxed, looking completely unconcerned by the prospect of turning into a potentially bloodthirsty monster. 

Then hadn’t quite finished the first episode when Damen started shifting in his seat. He cleared his throat. “I’m gonna take my clothes off now.” His cheeks darkened in a blush. “You can turn your back if you want.” 

“Oh. Yes.” Laurent felt his own cheeks warming. He turned away in the armchair, facing the french doors. In the glass, against the darkening sky, he could see the faint reflection of Damen standing and stripping off his shirt. His chest and arms were bulky with muscle, his stomach flat and tight. Laurent swallowed as he shucked off his pants also. The reflection wasn’t clear enough to see any detail between his thick, strong thighs. Laurent scolded himself for looking anyway. Then Damen stood in nothing but his collar and said, in a slightly hoarse voice, “I’ll see you on the flip side.”

Laurent’s eyes widened as Damen bent double, and his reflection in the glass rippled. He knew enough not to turn - transformation was a private act for most non-humans, although Damen didn’t strike him as the prudish type. Laurent wasn’t sure what he’d been expecting - a gruesome grinding of bone and popping of joints, maybe, hair sprouting from every pore and Damen’s face elongating into a snout. But there was hardly a sound, just a sudden rustling whisper as Damen’s body into the wolf shape like a curtain drawn across a window, the transformation enveloping him rapidly from head to toe.

There was silence, and then a soft  _ whuff _ behind Laurent. 

Laurent turned slowly, still seated in the armchair, and felt a spike of adrenaline course through him, making his heart pound and his breath go shallow. 

The wolf was enormous. 

Damen in his human form was at least 200 pounds of muscle, and the wolf was all that plus fur. Damen’s back came up to Laurent’s eye level with Laurent seated in the armchair, and he was almost as long as the couch. His fur was a rich brown, darker than his human skin, with a huge mane-like ruff around his neck, streaked with auburn. 

The wolf looked alert, ears perked and tail high, and he was watching Laurent from the opposite side of the coffee table. He could easily have put his paws up on the table and bounded right over it, but instead the wolf walked around it, and put his snout in Laurent’s knees, snuffling at him. Laurent shrank back instinctively, fingers clenching on the arms of the chair, and then told himself not to react. Wasn’t the old cliche that wolves could smell fear? Or was that sharks? 

He recognized the slightly hysterical edge to his own thoughts and shut them down, breathing out slowly through his nose and forcing himself to unknot his shoulders. The wolf’s nose was wet and cool through the fabric of his jeans as he sniffed him, his head almost as long as Laurent’s thigh.

The worn leather of the pysch-collar was mostly hidden in the thick fur of Damen’s ruff but Laurent could see the comforting light of the charm glowing steadily. The spell was a simple variation on a calming charm, the kind mothers might cast over fussy babies, or that police mages used to subdue an aggressive suspect. Something like it had been known for as long as there were records of weres coexisting with humans. It suppressed the violent hunting instinct of the wolf, the hunger that came with transformation, leaving the were docile and safe. 

At least that was how they were supposed to work. It was slightly less reassuring when faced with two hundred-odd pounds of wild animal. Damen’s tongue was lolling out. It was a friendly, doggy expression, but it showed an unsettling number of sharp white teeth. 

Then Damen let out a sharp bark that made Laurent jump, and bounded away from the chair, doing a circuit of the living room before coming back to nose impatiently at him again. Laurent got to his feet a little unsteadily and watched as Damen bounced away, trotting through the kitchen, nails clacking on the tiles, and then returning to sit at the back door. He turned his head toward Laurent and wagged his tail hopefully. 

Still feeling thrown off-kilter by the sudden transformation of a handsome man into an enormous energetic dog, Laurent grabbed his jacket off the back of the chair, and approached the french doors carefully. Damen’s tail thumped faster, ears pricked. 

“Good boy,” Laurent said tentatively, and then felt stupid. Weres weren’t really animals, although neither were they fully human while transformed. Damen said he didn’t remember much from the full moon nights, and he didn’t look like he had much interest in Netflix in this form, so there was something animal about his brain as well as his shape. Laurent wished suddenly that he’d payed more attention to the theory of werewolf psychology when he’d taken that species morphology class in college. 

When he pushed the back door open, Damen shot past him in a rush of fur and bounded across the patio. He watched as Damen’s sleek, animal body darted in an out of shadows near the fence, checking the perimeter and then stifled a laugh as Damen stopped and lifted a leg under a shrub. 

It was dim and blue outside, growing darker. The sun was set, the moon not yet visible above the trees. The first stars were coming out. 

Looking up at the sky, Laurent heard a faint sound. When he tipped his head back down he yelped and stumbled back a step. Damen had approached silently, melting out of the darkness like a nightmare; standing as high as Laurent’s chest, fur sleek and eyes gleaming in the light from the living room behind. Laurent felt his heartbeat pick up again. 

Then Damen bent his head and dropped something at Laurent’s feet. Looking down, Laurent saw a battered green tennis ball near the toe of his shoe. 

Damen whined. Laurent let out a breath and picked it up. Damen’s whole body vibrated - he didn’t sit like a dog waiting for a ball, but stood, enormous shoulders slightly bunched, eyes trained on Laurent with an unsettling intensity. The charm on the psych-collar glowed blue in the fur beneath his chin. 

Laurent threw the ball as hard as he could and Damen uncoiled like a spring. His body in motion was enormous, stunningly long and graceful. There was a swoop in the pit of Laurent’s stomach imagining being chased by a creature like that - there would be no contest, not without magic. He’d covered the length of the yard in just a few bounds, and was already back with the tennis ball held delicately between his teeth, dropping it on the patio. It was slightly slimy when Laurent picked it up, and he held it gingerly to throw again. 

They played… well, you could only call it fetch, until Damen was panting and he finally didn’t bring the ball back but flopped down in the grass a few feet from where Laurent stood. He rolled, squirming on his back, tongue hanging out happily, getting grass in his fur. Then in a fluid motion he rolled back to his feet and before Laurent could step away, Damen butted his face affectionately against Laurent’s chest. 

The force of it almost bowled him over - Damen’s skull was pressed hard enough against his sternum that Laurent reached behind him to brace himself on the back of a patio chair. Damen turned his head to the side and rubbed his whole body against Laurent’s chest, nosing under his arm and making snuffling noises. Laurent’s hand came to rest inadvertently on top of Damen’s head between his silky ears, and Damen arched up into it. Obediently, Laurent dug his fingers into the thick, warm fur, scratching behind his ears, and Damen made a rumbling sound that Laurent felt through his chest. 

Damen made no indication that he wanted to move away. Instead he leaned against Laurent heavily, making him clutch at the chair to stay upright, and let out a whuffling breath like a sigh. Laurent felt his ribcage rise and fall beneath the fur, fingers still tangled in his ruff. The evening was rapidly becoming chill, and the wolf was pleasantly warm against his front. He scritched Damen’s neck absently, and Damen’s tail wagged. 

Then the wolf ducked his head and nosed into Laurent’s crotch, snuffling. Squeaking, Laurent put his hands down to push Damen away, like he would with any over friendly dog. He was suddenly very aware that he had hurried out the house earlier without cleaning himself up very well - he was still somewhat wet and open from playing with himself. His cheeks burned thinking of the wolf smelling it. 

Something warm and wet enveloped his fingers. Damen was licking his hand. “Hey!” Laurent exclaimed. Damen looked up at him, mouth open in a doggy grin, and then trotted away toward the french doors. He looked back expectantly at Laurent in the light through the glass. 

Wiping his damp hand on his jeans Laurent crossed the patio and opened the door for Damen. After the cool night air, being inside felt hot, and he pulled his jacket and extra sweater over his head, leaving himself in just a T shirt. Damen had vanished into the kitchen, and Laurent could hear the sloshing of water in a bowl and the slurp of Damen drinking. 

Laurent crossed to the couch and let himself fall down on it. It was close to midnight and he was getting a little sleepy. He wondered if Damen would try to keep him awake to play or if he could take a nap. 

A cold nose pressed against his hip and Laurent jerked away, opening his eyes. Damen looked enormous from this vantage point, lying down on the couch, looming over him. The wolf nudged his legs again with his nose, like he was trying to get Laurent to shift over. “I’m not really sure there’s room for both of us,” he began, and then Damen jumped up on the couch, making the cushions sag, and before Laurent could do more than yelp in protest, Damen lay down on top of him. 

Laurent’s breath was crushed out of him beneath Damen’s weight and he flailed a little. Damen wooffed in apology and shifted a little until more of the wolf’s weight was leaning against the back of the couch. Laurent could breathe again.  

Damen was like a heated fur rug. Laurent was covered from his feet all the way to where Damen’s head was resting beside his, muzzle tucked next to Laurent’s ear. His breath was ruffling Laurent’s hair gently. He didn’t smell like dog, Laurent realized. He smelled a little of fur, but the scent of his sweat and breath was human. Laurent relaxed a little. It felt good to lie curled against a warm body. He tried to remember the last time he’d lain pressed up beside someone else - a couple of years? All his hookups recently had been quick and impersonal. 

Damen sighed contentedly in his ear, and Laurent smiled up at the ceiling, letting his hand stroke absently down Damen’s side. Making a soft sound, Damen shifted a little rolling further against the back of the couch to expose his belly. Laurent let his hand stroke down Damen’s ribcage, feeling the delicate bones beneath the skin. 

The fur on Damen’s stomach was almost synthetically soft, and Laurent swept his hand through it appreciatively. He could get used to this. Damen squirmed again, and whined in Laurent’s ear.

Laurent froze. 

There was something poking Laurent’s thigh through his jeans. He felt Damen’s cold nose against his cheek, and Damen whimpered, and then twitched his hips emphatically.

A hot rush of shame and inevitability washed over Laurent as he felt his own cock twitch and start to harden. His hands curled involuntarily in the ruff at the wolf’s neck. Damen must have felt or smelled his rush of arousal, because he gave a short, happy bark, and pressed himself more fully against Laurent’s front. For a panicky moment he tensed beneath the wolf, feeling trapped, but Damen whined again and lifted himself up a little, off Laurent, enough to let him breathe. 

The wolf was too big to shove off but Laurent knew a dozen spells off the top of his head that could extract him from the situation - bindings, banishings, protections, evasions. He didn’t cast any of them. The steady pull of the psych-charm lay like an itch under Laurent’s breast bone. Damen wouldn’t hurt him.

It wasn’t that unexpected, all things considered. Damen was, for all intents and purposes, a bright dog. When Laurent was a kid they’d had a small, scruffy terrier that had like to hump anything he could get his paws on. Animals were like that, it was natural. Harmless. He was overreacting. 

Laurent let out a shaky breath and felt the worn leather of the collar beneath his fingers, through Damen’s fur. Telling himself to relax, he ran his hands down Damen’s sides again - nothing wrong with that. It was just… affectionate, like Damen had said. Like being part of a pack. Of course it felt good, to be close to another creature like this after so long - warm and weighed down. Laurent’s cock was half-hard, interested, but he ignored it, petting Damen’s back. 

Damen squirmed a little on top of him, and then Laurent felt the wolf’s tongue, wet and agile, lapping at his neck. He jerked his head back reflexively, chin tilting up, and Damen licked at the sensitive, tender skin beneath his jaw, making him shudder. The wolf’s tongue slid over his pulse, powerful jaw and dangerous teeth pressed against his exposed throat. Laurent’s heart was pounding fast with an edge of fear so deep and instinctive his mind couldn’t shake it off. It made every inch of his body buzz - hyper aware and urgently aroused. Distracted, Laurent yanked accidentally on one of Damen’s silken ears, and Damen gave a short bark. Laurent loosened his grip and smoothed his hands down Damen’s side in apology. 

Damen wriggled suddenly, rolling to expose his belly again, and Laurent’s hand slipped from his hip to the tender warm skin inside the wolf’s haunch. He felt something wet brush against his palm and felt a flash of mortified, undeniable heat run through him. His cheeks were burning, and he pressed his face into the thick fur of Damen’s neck as he let his fingers explore the wolf’s exposed dick, slender and smooth, copiously wet at the tip, dampening the fur of his belly. Not at all human. 

Sighing happily in Laurent’s ear, Damen wagged his tail - Laurent could feel his pelvis moving because he was  _ touching the wolf’s fucking cock _ \- and gave Laurent’s neck and cheek a last sloppy lick before nosing at his collarbones and sliding further down his chest. His cock slid out of Laurent’s loose grip as he shifted. 

The couch wasn’t big enough for the enormous wolf to change positions easily, but Damen had gotten his back haunches under him, sitting on top of Laurent’s legs, so he could drag his head from beside Laurent’s down his chest to where his shirt was riding up above his belly button. His jeans were uncomfortably tight, his cock throbbing against the denim. 

Damen nuzzled up under the hem of the shirt and Laurent gasped and shivered at the wolf’s cold nose and the soft tickle of fur across his belly, the puffs of warm breath across his chest. He yanked his shirt off and Damen rewarded him by licking enthusiastically at all the newly exposed skin. His broad tongue swept artlessly across Laurent’s nipples - sensitive and hard - making him shudder. 

His hands tightened involuntarily in Damen’s fur and Damen whuffled, nosing down his belly, warm tongue leaving wet swipes across his skin that cooled and tingled as they dried. Laurent drew a deep breath, fingers flexing in Damen’s fur, eyes closed as the wolf licked his way down his body. 

He felt a tug on his jeans and looked down. Damen had his front teeth delicately caught in the waistband and was pulling meaningfully. Laurent swallowed hard, hearing his own heartbeat rush in his ears. Taking his pants off crossed a line that made him feel shaky and hot. 

Damen tugged insistently again and Laurent swore under his breath. “Hold your horses.” He fumbled at the button, tugging down his zipper, and giving his cock a quick, guilty squeeze. Damen lifted himself up again so Laurent could pull his pants down, but it still took a minute of awkward kicking and squirming. 

By the time Laurent fell back on the couch naked, he could no longer pretend he wasn’t complicit in what was happening. But it didn’t matter, he wasn’t thinking about it any longer, because Damen was crouched on top of his shins, licking his cock. 

Helplessly, Laurent arched up into the wolf’s tongue. It was nothing like getting sucked by a human - Damen’s tongue was long and broad and curled easily around the full length of Laurent’s cock, slurping messily and without rhythm, lapping up the fluid leaking from the tip of his dick, before darting down to twist around Laurent's balls. Laurent bucked and cried out as the wolf’s tongue slid lower, beneath his balls, toward his hole - still wet and loose from that afternoon. 

Making an impatient whining noise, Damen nosed forcefully at his inner thigh, and Laurent spread his legs, hooking a hand behind one knee, face flushing at the thought that he was holding himself open for the wolf to - oh  _ fuck _ . To lick him - hot, wet tongue down his crack, delving in hungrily to his sensitive hole, before trailing back up to lap at his balls and cock. 

Laurent was achingly hard, leaking onto his own stomach, untouched, one hand still fisted in Damen’s fur. He was rocking his hips up urgently, trying to get more pressure against the slick, insubstantial slide of Damen’s tongue. Damen whined, pausing to rub his furry cheek against the inside of Laurent’s thigh, giving him a perfunctory, reassuring lick on the knee before returning to his enthusiastic investigation of Laurent’s ass and crotch.  

Laving across his hole, Damen’s tongue managed to press into him a little on each pass. Laurent was already loose and sloppy wet with saliva, and lube from earlier. There was a hot knot of certainty and apprehension in his gut at how open and aching he was - there was really only one thing that could be coming now, and he should stop it; he didn’t. 

His balls were tight, close just from the wet tease of Damen’s tongue. The wolf’s tongue caught at the rim of his hole, curling, and Laurent gasped, dick twitching. 

Damen licked a broad, firm stripe up from Laurent’s ass, over his balls and up his cock to the tip and Laurent arched up, crying out as he came all over his stomach. Damen made an eager noise, and kept licking the head as he spilled. The wolf lapped up every drop until Laurent was shuddering at the stimulation on his cock. 

Finally, he pushed Damen’s muzzle away, collapsing back on the couch cushions and going limp. His body was tingling, relaxed and euphoric, pulse rushing in his ears.

He felt Damen’s nose nudging at his thigh - gently at first, and then more insistently. Laurent shifted a little, and the wolf gave a heaving toss of his head, flipping Laurent half on his side. Laurent’s eyes flew open. 

He was suddenly lying almost on his stomach, ass exposed, and Damen was licking down his crack again. Laurent’s cock twitched in a valiant attempt to get hard again. Then he felt the couch cushions shift beneath him as Damen moved, and suddenly there was an enormous, soft weight on his back. Laurent tensed again, and Damen whined. Laurent could feel the warm, slick stiffness of the wolf’s cock bouncing against his inner thigh. 

Dropping his head into the crook of his arms, Laurent groaned, and arched his back to give the wolf a better angle. There was an awkward, impatient shuffle of paws and then Laurent got his knees under him enough to bring his ass up to the level of Damen’s hips and he squeezed his eyes shut as the wolf’s cock pressed inside him. 

Damen wasn’t as thick as his toys, and he slid in easily, wet with spit and lube and thin, canine precome. There was no adjustment - just quick, eager jabs inside him that made Laurent gasp and clench down - hungry, wanting more. 

Damen was panting in his ear, furry belly making warm friction against Laurent's back as he humped rapidly. Laurent struggled up on his elbows, and the change of angle made them both moan. Or, Laurent moaned and the wolf made an urgent whuffling whine and fucked him harder.

Damen’s cock was thickening at the base and Laurent’s breath came short - he knew what it was, everyone had seen the pornos at some point. The wolf pressed deep and stopped thrusting, Laurent choked on a sob as he felt Damen’s knot swell inside him. The stretch burned, and it pressed hard against his prostate making him shudder and sent a shock of pleasure through him, and he moaned, arching under Damen's weight. The wolf had his paws on either side of Laurent's shoulders, soft stomach pressed against Laurent's back, hot breath huffing in his ear. 

Damen growled a little and licked his neck, and Laurent came a second time, clenching down on the wolf’s knot. The feel of it inside him made the waves of pleasure more intense, verging on pain. His cock throbbed, pulsing sticky liquid all over the cushions beneath him as Laurent gasped and panted helplessly.

His arms gave out, dumping him face first into the couch, Damen's weight landing heavily on top of him. The knot shifted abruptly inside him and Laurent choked back a scream, cock jerking and drooling, oversensitive and still half hard. Damen wasn’t thrusting anymore but he was rocking his hips in tiny, needy circles, as he spilled come steadily inside Laurent. The movement rubbed his knot slightly against Laurent’s prostate. He clawed at the couch cushions, toes curled, damp face pressed against the fabric.

Every nerve in Laurent’s body felt on fire.  He was so full, aching, trembling with every thrust. The wolf was huffing in his ear, heavy body twitching with orgasm. The steady, merciless rubbing of Damen’s cock inside him made him want to cry, to scream, to get away, but he couldn’t. He was trapped beneath Damen, tied to him helplessly. 

Laurent came again with a sob, not even fully hard, cock twitching feebly, oozing a thin dribble of fluid. 

Damen nuzzled at his ear, and rolled a little to one side, making Laurent choke at the tug of the knot. Licking him reassuringly, Damen used his paw under Laurent’s shoulder to readjust him, so they were curled mostly on their sides, the wolf behind and still partially on top of Laurent, no longer crushing him. 

The knot ached and throbbed inside him, but Damen wasn’t moving anymore and Laurent's whole body felt limp, wrung out and exhausted. They would be knotted for a while, if porn was any indication. He would just close his eyes for a minute. 

~

Damen woke naked except for the charm collar which was cold and dark around his neck. Laurent was gone, and the sun was up, washing the living room in light. The coffee table had been knocked away from the couch, and tidy stacks of books and mail toppled and strewn across its surface. He turned his head and caught the smell of sex, overwhelming even in his human form. The couch cushions were completely destroyed, still sticky and wet in places, and crustily dried in others. 

Damen swore, flashes of last night running in a confused, monochrome loop through his head. They'd... he'd....  _ fuck _ , if he'd hurt Laurent... He lurched his feet, unsteady as always after a full moon and even more sore than usual. There was dried come flaking off his stomach. He swore again, and looked around frantically for his phone. 

It was where it belonged, with his keys on the side table by the door. On top of it was a sticky note, from the pad in the kitchen. 

There was a phone number scrawled on it and the note said,  _ If you need a sitter again, call me. ~L _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!  
> Follow me on tumblr at [ stillwaterseas](http://stillwaterseas.tumblr.com/) or at my fandom blog [seas-of-ios](https://seas-of-ios.tumblr.com/)


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